


Fresh Starts

by WordGoober



Category: Black Panther (2018), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, I just want them to be friends, Post-Black Panther (2018), Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), T'Challa (Marvel) Is a Good Bro, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony needs some actual friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 13:28:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13812132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordGoober/pseuds/WordGoober
Summary: My father made that shield.It’s true enough - Howard Stark designed the thing. But the design wasn’t what made the shield what it was. What made the shield so legendary was the material it was made from. Vibranium. Stolen Vibranium.After the Avenger’s ‘civil war’, Tony has had enough of hypocrisy. That, or he’s just tired and hurt and done with the damn thing.





	Fresh Starts

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this. yeet.

“Your Majesty.” Tony tries his best to sound polite through his exhaustion. His attempt must have succeeded somewhat, because when T’challa’s two Dora Milaje guards look back at him, they don’t look particularly angry. Just regular ‘don’t disrespect our king’ angry, and Tony wasn’t planning on being disrespectful (although with his recent failures to communicate in mind, he might still end up skewered). Cornering the king after an accords committee meeting may not be seen as polite, though.

“Dr. Stark.” T’challa responds, surprising Tony by the degree of respect in his voice. He’d forgotten that not every superhero on Earth hated him. “I have been meaning to speak with you.”

“Oh.” Surprised again. Tony is off his game. He knew that, but it was still disorienting. He tries to pull himself together at least enough to sound like a human being.  
“King T’challa. Sir - is sir the right word?” He glances at the Dora Milaje guards for clarification. The one on T’challa’s left gives an mildly amused shrug. “Alright, we’re going with Sir, then. I - um. I have something that I think really belongs to you.” 

T’challa falls into step with Tony as he subtly steers the king toward the car Happy is waiting in at the edge of the sidewalk. 

“That’s strange.” T’challa sounds pensive, lost in thought and almost a little sad. “I believe, Dr. Stark, there is something I owe you as well.”

That nearly stops Tony in his tracks, but after a slight stumble he manages to keep his stride. 

“What? I don’t think there’s anything -”

“An apology.” T’challa places a hand on Tony’s shoulder, effectively shutting him up and grabbing his attention. It takes a moment for his words to sink in. When they do, it’s a wave a relief. Tony didn’t even know that he’d been dreading T’challa’s judgement for his handling of the accords affairs, but hearing that T’challa clearly still holds some respect toward him is healing. 

“Oh.” 

T’challa continues.  
“I left you in Siberia without checking to make sure you were alright. I took the word of Steve Rogers, a man who had just betrayed you, and blindly believed you were unharmed. If I had known what kind of shape you were in, I never would have left you alone there.”

“Oh.” Tony repeats, a little dumbfounded. “Well, uh, no harm done.” The pain in his chest flares under the weight of the lie. Tony resists the urge to raise a hand to rub his aching sternum. That wasn’t T’challa’s fault. It was Steve’s.   
The way the Dora Milaje’s eyes flicker to Tony’s chest tells him they weren’t fooled by the lie. The sadness in the young king’s eyes tells Tony T’challa wasn’t fooled either. 

“Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” Having arrived at the car door, Tony swings it open to reveal the Captain America shield sitting propped up in the back seat. For a moment, surprise flashes over the three Wakandan’s faces. Each one of them settles into a neutral expression faster than the last. 

“This doesn’t belong to me. I mean, my dad turned it into a shield, but, uh. It didn’t really belong to him either. It’s vibranium. It was stolen from Wakanda. It’s time you took it back.” Tony lifts the shield, holding it out to T’challa. T’challa takes it, reverent at first and then grasping the metal firmly. He meets Tony’s eyes. 

“I do not know if I can explain to you how grateful I am for this gesture, Dr. Stark.” The hand that isn’t holding the shield clasps Tony’s shoulder once again. “Especially after I have failed both you and myself so spectacularly. I hope that the passing off of the shield can be something of a new beginning for us.” 

Tony relaxes. “That seems like a perfectly good plan to me. Although, I have to ask. What do you think you’ll do with it?”

T’challa lets out a soft chuckle. “Give it to my sister and let her decide. She has the genius and wit to rival you, Dr. Stark. I think the two of you would get along nicely.”

“Sounds like one cool princess. Maybe we can compare notes sometime.”

“She is.” T’challa smiles fondly. “And I hope that you do, Dr. Stark. Consider yourself invited to Wakanda.”

The statement is enough to silence any other remarks Tony may have made. Of all the honors he’s received in his life, an invite to Wakanda is one of the rarest, coolest, and the one he feels like he least deserves. The look in T’challa’s eyes is humbling, though - he’s absolutely serious.   
“Really?” Tony’s question is directed more at the Dora Milaje guards than the king. After all, it’s their country, too. The woman on T’challa’s right gives him a kind smile and begins to lead T’challa toward the car waiting for them. The woman on his left looks on the verge of laughter. She gives Tony a friendly clap on the back as the Wakandans leave, saying,  
“Absolutely. I’d love to see Shuri critique your designs.”

And then the three of them are gone, taking the shield with them. Tony stands outside his car, once again alone. Somehow he feels more whole than he has in a while.


End file.
